My immortal
by Toriga-Okami
Summary: I was listening to Evanescence-My immortal and I thought... "What if Sephiroth had a lover/companion?..." So I started to write and this is how it turned out. It's swaying more to the 'what its like for the one left behind' side... its only a oneshot...
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** Just a oneshot. Playing on the idea that if Sephiroth had a companion, what would life be like for it after he 'died'.

* * *

Once upon a time she was beautiful. A companion befitting a hero. Her coat gleamed in the sunlight, glistening eyes picking out every detail, committing them to her memory, should they ever disappear. Wolf was what he called her, his silken voice accentuating the sound of her name as he rolled it off his tongue. Wolf was what she was. Till Hojo had a go. Then she was human, only a shadow of the beast remaining. Still her eyes would glisten and her hair would gleam, pulled tightly into a bun, or flowing freely down her back, his fingers ghosting through it like water.

She was 15, long past the years of the wolf she had been, and wiser for it too. She was his trusted companion, his partner, his pet. Inseparably entwined to his fate, she would go everywhere he went. Sephiroth and his Wolf were one. But that was in the past...

Now, she was ragged. A creature befitting the cell she was prisoner of. Untrusting of her, Shinra had incarcerated her upon Sephiroth's demise. Kept under constant surveillance, day in and day out, through light and dark, lest she should try to escape and go to his aid. She never did. Her eyes were dull and her hair no longer gleamed. The young Wolf who marched to war, fought beside _him_ was no longer there.

All the day she would sit in her cell, gazing through the barred window at the blue skies beyond. She never thought about him now. She used to, but not now. Years of hoping, longing, pining for her master had taught her not to think of him, for he was dead to her now. At night she would dream of him though still. He was encircled by flames that licked his body and his armour. His eyes reflected none of the love she held for him. His face now haunted her once pleasant dreams.

Time and time again she would be called from her cell, forced to wash the dishes, scrub the walls, clean the entire complex from top to bottom every day, though only she and the guards were living there. She had long accepted her fate to live and waste away in that place, surrounded by concrete walls, becoming duller and duller with every empty year.

There was just too much for time to try and erase. It had been 8 years already since his death the first time and still her sentence went on. At the age of 23 there was nothing left for her in the outside world, it had changed, and so had she.

His presence still lingered with her and it would not go away. At night she would wake up screaming, a thing the guards had long gotten used to. Then she would creep to her window, pull out the bars and window panes, and let the cold air rush against her face, cooling the sweat that coated her brow. It was at these times she was glad she was alone, to enjoy these little things he never liked to do; let the wind caress his face, watch the clouds float by in the sky, see the seasons change around him.

If anyone asked her to, she would run to him still, but it had been years since she had heard his name, refusal to think of him had led her to muteness. Still years passed around her, as she was caught in a web of routine and mechanical gesture. Decades had it been since she saw his face, but still he held her in his palm. She tried so many times to tell herself he was gone, but now she was bound by the life he left behind.

Was it love? She didn't know, but she was so tired of being there, alone in that world, suppressed by all her childish fears. Was it loyalty? She wasn't sure, but she longed to see his face, be captivated by his voice she still sometimes heard in her mind. He'd chased away all the sanity in her, and she didn't even care. Was she alive? She hardly knew, she'd been alone so long, she barely felt human, barely felt Wolf. Trapped in a world with no noise, no feeling, alone.

In immortality.


	2. The week Day one

A/N: Ok, so I know the last chapter was only meant to be a oneshot... but I got thinking, and came up with more of an idea. So, this is the week leading up to when Sephiroth went bonkers and got it into his head that rushing around killing people was a great idea. It's still going on the fact that he had a lover/companion. And I'm not going to make any lemons on this, so don't even ask. If you want to think of their relationship that way, by all means, but I'm not going to go into any great detail alright? This is a K rated fic so nothing horrific on here lol XD

* * *

My Immortal – The week – Day one – Eye of the storm.

The wind whipped around them and the sun was lost behind the clouds above their heads. She gazed up at them as a fork of lightening split the air between her and the morose stretch of sky. A voice behind he beckoned her to it, compelling her to follow the command. She stood stolidly before her master, watching with a silence that only came with absolute trust and admiration. "Are you ready?"

She dipped her chin in affirmation at the question, her eyes silently returning the question. He nodded in response and gestured with a jerk of his head that she should follow as he walked, his hand resting on the maburame at his waist.

She could see by the slope of his back and the drop of his shoulders that he was tired. Even the best of SOLDIERS couldn't fight an entire war on their own. But that was why she was there, so he wasn't on his own. She'd been in many battles with him over the years, but the Wutian war had to be the longest and hardest they had fought in a long time. And they were only there to find Genesis and his missing squad.

Sephiroth glanced over his shoulder at her, he could see she was thinking. He didn't like it when she thought. Not that it was a bad thing, only that he was never sure what was going through her mind, and it made him uneasy. When Hojo had handed her over to him, the silver haired warrior hadn't known what to do with her. It had taken him some time to get used to all her changes, and even now he found himself continually disturbed by her reaction to war.

They would go into battle and she would follow behind him like the wolf she used to be, quiet and reserved, utterly respecting of him as her leader. Then as soon as he gave the order for her to attack, she would change completely, forgetting all sense of the word 'refrain' as she tore through the enemy ranks, ripping out throats and snarling in rage until her silvery coat was sticky and matted with their blood. She was a living carnation of the words, "The hounds of hell", with a bloody, glistening wolfish grin splitting her muzzle in two. The ferocity of the animal he fought beside held none of the reverence or regality of the girl that walked behind him. "What're you thinking of Wolfe?"

The gold pallet eyes that looked up at him were quiet and sad, not an odd occurrence, but disconcerting none the less. "Why don't I have a name Master?"

Sephiroth stopped in his tracks, turning slowly to look at the girl, before facing her, his hands coming up to grip her arms as he spoke. "You do have a name, you're Wolfe."

She shook her head, her unblinking eyes fixed on his face, "That is what I will respond to you as. But is that who I am? Or what I am? What am I master?"  
He didn't know. It was a question he often asked himself too. It was a well known thing that Shinra's scientist had conducted experiments on living things before, and when Hojo had dumped her on him, it had become clear that she was the fruit of one such experimentation. "You're my companion." He stated flatly, "And it shouldn't matter what you are or how you respond. If you know that much, at least you know that I need you. Do you understand?"

She nodded, a slight growl emitting from her throat. It was a low, guttural sound that sent shivers up Sephiroth's spine, reminding him of the battle that was ahead of them. He released her arms, only now realising how tightly he'd been gripping her, as the marks beneath his fingers were already bruising.

That was another thing that was both admirable and disconcerting about the girl. She had endured a huge amount of ill-treatment, least of all at his hands. But despite this, he had never seen her flinch in pain or fear. He always felt a twinge of guilt when seeing her pick herself from the ground, a red mark rising on her cheekbone where he had struck her in his rage. It was almost as though she had accepted the fate that was being dealt out to her, and had no desire to stop it. It would have made him sick if it had not first made him awed.

He started walking again, knowing by the light touch of her snout against his leg that she was following. He didn't need to look to know that she would be walking at his heel like a well trained dog. Her eyes, flat and gold, like big, shining coins, would be scanning the surroundings routing out the threats, like she'd been trained.

The rocky plateau they were walking across would later serve as a battle field for the Wutian and the enemies, in their thousands they would fall. She wished she could be the one to take them down, spill their hot, sweet, wine-like blood onto the rocks, if only he would ask it of her.

Thunder clapped and a bolt of lightening spilt the sky above their heads, forcing the clouds to release their burden in a torrential downpour. The soft white fur that clung to her body, thick and sodden, still kept her warm and the SOLDIER blood would ensure he did not freeze. They were the perfect team, perfectly matched to one another, and she would follow him where ever he would bid her.

* * *

A/N: As you could probably tell by the title, there is gonna be more of this stuff, so if you like it, please tell me :)


End file.
